A Prince's Curse
by TwistedAngel08
Summary: "I'm starting to think that nothing will work, Faramir. I'm starting to think that witch lied to me, that I'm never going to be fixed." So, yeah, a lotr fic, gotta love those! Umm, language, MalexMale, and violence. Don't like? Don't read! Please enjoy, and R&R! Rated m for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Welp, this idea has been rattling around my brain for a long time, so I figured, what the Hell, why not? I mean, sure, the whole kidnapped and forced to dance plot isn't exactly new or anything, but this is my take on it, and I doubt anyone has done one quite like this! And chapter one is a little short, but I just need to get the brain juices goin. So, before I start rambling, on with the show! Faramir, would you do the honors?**

**Faramir: Of course! Miss TwistedAngel08 does not own Lord of the Rings, or any other work by J. R. R. Tolkien. She does however own a very creative imagination.**

******Aww, thanks! As always, I must warn you! This chapter is extremely tame, but later on there will be language, gay love, violence, possibly sex, etc. etc. Don't like it? Don't read! Please enjoy, and remember to R&R!**

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The prince watched the dancer with cold, calculating eyes. The girl was quite beautiful, and moved with such sweet lithe as would make an elf jealous, but somehow... nothing she did satisfied him completely. Even as the girl gyrated herself against him ever so teasingly, he felt no change. He let her go on like this for another quarter hour, but finally, with a sound of disgust, he waved a hand to the guards, signalling for them to take the girl away. She struggled as the men handled her roughly, dragging her out of the dinner hall.  
"Be careful with her!" the prince's brother called. The guards looked at Prince Boromir for confirmation, who shook his head as if snapping out of a daze. Then, he nodded, sighing. "No change then, Brother?" the younger prince, Faramir asked. Boromir grumbled under his breath, looking at his brother who sat beside him.  
"I'm starting to think that nothing will work, Faramir. I'm starting to think that witch lied to me, that I'm never going to be fixed." Faramir shook his head, smiling sympathetically.  
"No, don't think like that. You must remain optimistic about the future. Everything will work out, I'm sure of it," he said cheerily. Boromir huffed, slamming a hand on the arm of his chair.  
"If I cannot remedy this curse, I cannot become king, and if I do not become king, then Gondor will continue to be run by that despicable group of inbred swine!" he exclaimed. "The Council of Twelve is meant to be temporary fix, not a permanent installation!" Everyone in the hall sank back against their chairs, worried by the angry prince. But with a disappointed look, Faramir quieted his brother.

"You must be patient, Boromir. The perfect maiden is not about to fall into your lap," he scolded. The prince nodded, knowing his younger brother was right. Then he noticed Faramir fidgeting.

"What is it? What are you thinking?" be demanded. Faramir, flinched, then sighed.

"Well, has it uh, maybe occurred that maybe you are not looking for a, um, woman?" he asked hesitantly. Boromir blinked, then burst out laughing. Others joined in until the entire hall shook with laughter. It was a silly prospect, the prince lusting after another male, and even the very goblets from which they drank seemed to twinkle with good humour. The only one who did not laugh, however, was Faramir, and after a moment, his brother noticed.

"You're not joking, are you?" he asked quietly. The laughter slowly died as Faramir shook his head.

"Brother, I know it sounds repulsive, but it _is_ a possibility, and frankly, it seems to me that you are running out of options." Boromir began to stand up, gently quaking with fury, but quickly sat back down once more, thinking hard. After a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Perhaps you are right..." he mumbled. Everyone gasped. "What?!" the prince snapped. ""It is not as if I fancy the idea any more than you, but what other choice do I have?" Boromir sighed as he signalled for a guard to come to his side. He whispered to the man before sending him off again, slouching back into his seat in a most unprincely way. "Leave us!" the angry prince called to the others in the hall. As they all filed out, Boromir said, "Let us see if you are right, Brother. Let us see..."

Three years later...

I woke up on the hard, cold, and unsettlingly damp ground, a pounding in my head, and shackles around my wrists. I groaned slightly and kept my eyes clenched shut, not sure of what was going on. Then, with a sharp movement I sat up, wincing at the pain in my head from moving too fast. My sensitive ears detected music from afar, but it was not like anything I was familiar with. Unlike the sweet, lilting songs of my people, this music was fast-paced, primal, and filled with raw energy. Hesitantly, from fear of blinding myself with any potential bright light that might be waiting, I opened my eyes, somewhat disappointed that there was no bright light. Indeed, there was not much light at all, and nothing could be made out clearly. Only shapes could be discerned in the dim lighting, but one thing was clear: I was in a cell of some sorts, held prisoner by... who? Who on the Earth would be so foolish as to kidnap a prince of elves? I sighed, startled when someone sighed back. How could I have not heard them breathing? I could not _remember_ the last time someone had managed to sneak up on me.  
After a moment of hesitation, I said, "Who is there?" My voice was rough and gravelly from sleep, making me frown. How long had I been unconscious?  
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," a voice answered. It was smooth and filled with bemusement. "And who do I have the privilege of speaking to?" the man- for the voice was clearly male- asked. I cleared my throat, holding my head high despite the fact that the man most likely could not see me.  
"I am the prince of Mirkwood, Legolas, son of Thranduil, and I demand to be set free, lest the wrath of a superior race be rained upon you, and whatever establishment this may be!" I said grandly. I held back a huff when I heard the man snort.  
"Establishment? I think that's a much too civilised term for this castle, Legolas," he said darkly. "And as for you being a prince, I assure you, you would not be here if Prince Boromir had not payed quite a hefty sum for you. I regret to tell you this, but superior race or not, if you are an elf, as I suspect, there is simply not enough of your kind to put up a fight." He paused, almost as if for dramatic effective as I silently fumed over his insolent words. "It is something I've seen many times working under the prince. He finds a pretty man or maiden, shows off his army, offers gold and takes what he wants. Trust me, Legolas, if you are here, chances are you will remain here for the rest of your days."

Aragorn spoke no more after that, no matter how hard I tried to coax a word out of him. Finally, I gave up in favour of exploring my cell. It was quite large, and had a few pieces of furniture, though they felt moth-eaten to me. I was not about to sit on the chair, let alone lay my head down to sleep in the disgusting bed. Once my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I looked to see my jailer, but was discontented to see that he was clad in a travelling cloak, and with the hood up his face was shrouded in darkness. He saw me looking and waved, further aggravating me. Then, he pulled out what I assumed was a pipe and busied himself with preparing it for smoking. I watched him for lack of anything better to do with my time. _Maybe I'll be able to see his face in the glow of the embers,_ I thought hopefully. To my disappointment, his pipe was so long that all its glow did was cast a darker shadow over Aragorn's face. I sighed quietly, turning away from him. Then, an idea came to me. I was familiar with many forms of locks, perhaps I could pick the lock on my shackles. With a smirk, I raises my hands up to my hair to grab the pin I kept just for picking locks. It was not there. Huffing, I checked the other side, thinking I might have switched it. Again, I was met only with my soft hair. _No matter_, I thought smugly. Surely they would not have checked my clothes! My hands slid up my shirt, touching my warm belly and making me flinch. I searched every piece of my shirt that I could reach, but no pin. Growing rather frustrated, I searched each pant leg, and still came out empty-handed. Finally, with a noise of outrage, I slammed my still-shackled fists against the ground, earning a chuckle from Aragorn.

Whipping around, I snapped, "What. Is so. _Funny?!_"

"Missing a few things?" he asked coolly. I snarled, snapping to my feet.

"Who searched me?! Who touched me, and _who_ do I need to _annihilate_ when I get out of this infernal cell?!" I struggled to get closer, clutching at the bars that separated us.

He slowly looked up at me and blew a smoke ring in my direction.

"You need to learn to calm down, Elf. Such a temper will not benefit you, no matter the occasion." He sat quiet, motionless except for a few puffs on his pipe. I tried to wait for him to speak, thinking it was some test he wanted me to pass before he told me anything, but soon it became clear that he was not testing me, he was _ignoring_ me. I plopped down unceremoniously with a noise of disgust. How dare he ignore me?

"Will you at least tell me what I'm doing here?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me for a moment before saying, "You're here for the entertainment of a spoiled prince." _This day could not possibly get worse,_ I thought to myself.

All of a sudden, a large woman carrying a lantern burst into the room, squinting at me through the bars. "I am here to get the dancer so I can bathe and dress her!" she announced grandly. I was wrong, the day had just gotten _much_ worse.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Yay! Chapter 2! It's a little longer than than chap 1 but I still need to get my shit together, lol. So, yeah, thanks to Meow The Unicorn and Aeirlys for the reviews! Reviews are what motivate me to write, so if you want an update you gotta tell me! Anyone want to so the disclaimer?**

**Aragorn: Seeing as I'm not in this chapter, I'll do it. TwistedAngel08 obviously does not own any of the works based in MiddleEarth. Duh. So please, do NOT sue her, she's no making money off this, it's purely for enjoyment. **

**Thanks Aragorn! Alright, warnings... Nothing has happened YET. But it will, so... There may be language in this chapter, and later there will probably be malexmale sex... Uhhhh, other then that, i can't think o any reason you might complain other then you just wanton to be a dick. Lol, please enjoy and R&R! Again, reviews maker write faster!**

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When the woman had said bathe and dress me, I had assumed she meant get me bathed and dressed. No, she meant to do it herself. She was well able to do it, too, for she was a foot taller than I was and twice as wide! After being dragged out of my cell and thrown over the giantess's shoulder, I had been tossed into a tub, stripped against my wills, poked in prodded in places I did not ever want to be poked and prodded in, rubbed raw while being dried and being forced to wear what looked like a lot of string with some cloth attached. It barely covered me in the back, and almost did not cover me in the front. As Elda, as I discovered her name to be, introduced me to the other dancers I kept my hands over my groin in case the jostling of _walking _caused me to slip out of the most immodest garb. One maiden in particular stood out, a young woman named Èowyn. She was kind enough to offer me her cloak to cover myself.

"Ah, Èowyn, I see you been out riding today," Elda said. Èowyn nodded excitedly.

"The prince has given me the most beautiful gift and I have named her Geliefan!" she explained. "She is the fastest, sweetest, smartest beast you will ever know!" Then she looked at me. "So, you are a new dancer?" I cocked my head to the side.

"Dancer? Is that what I am expected to do? Well, that is most unfortunate, seeing as I cannot dance," I grumbled. "I do thank you for the cloak though, I will return it as soon as-"

"Anyways, Elda, where is Prince Boromir?" Èowyn asked, speaking over me. I blinked a few times, shocked that anyone would dare to interrupt me. _Who does she think she is?_ I thought to myself. She and Elda continued to converse whilst I stood between them, feeling snubbed and confused. Eventually, they said their goodbyes, and Elda continued introducing me to dancers. They were all quite rude, and I could not understand why.

"It is because they are all royalty. Being a princess makes a girl haughty and proud," Elda explained.

"Am I like that?" I asked. She smiled down at me before making a great booming sound. It took me a moment to realise that was her laugh. _Is she laughing at me?_ I wondered.

"Ah, my little elf, I did not know that a boy could be a princess," she said, chuckling. I turned three shades of red before huffing.

"That is not what I meant, and you know it!" I exclaimed. She only shook her head and continued on her way.

"Come, small one, it is time you meet who you will be sharing a room with." With that, she opened a large door that I had not noticed and ushered me into a smaller room that held three small young men, and one very young boy.

"Hello," they all said. The smallest one came to me and grabbed my hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

"My name is Frodo Baggins, it's nice to finally meet you," he said with a large smile.

"Aye, this is Frodo, and the other three are Meriadoc, Perigrin, and Samwise," she elaborated. Frodo grinned even wider.

"It would be best to stay on their good sides, Merry and Pippen love to play tricks on people," he said. The two young men nodded, not at all abashed.

"Well, I have other things to attend to, so I want you three to get him ready for tonight," Elda started, turning to leave. "Make it something green and playful, to play on his elfish nature." Then she was gone, the large door closed. All at once, I found myself on the ground, swarmed by my four new companions as they asked me questions.

"Are you a prince?"

"Why do you keep your hair so long?"

"Would you like us to give you a haircut?"

"How old are you?"

"Have you ever been to Rivendell? Is it beautiful there?"

"Have you-"

"Enough!" I shouted. "Please, give me some room, I've just arrived." They all backed away, looking sheepish.

"Sorry about that," Samwise said. "It's just that you're the first new dancer that isn't some stuck up princess that we've met." He offered me a hand to help me up but I waved him away, standing.

"I do not know why everyone insists on calling me a 'dancer', as I have no skill whatsoever in dancing, or really anything else of such poise and refinement," I sniffed, crossing my arms. Merry and Pippen gave each other a worried look, and then pulled the other two away. They whispered to each other at the other side of the room, thinking I could not hear them.

"Alright, I know we've just met him and all, but I'm kind of worried he's just like all the girls," Merry said quietly. I tried not to look offended to keep from alerting them of my eavesdropping, but on the inside, I was starting to boil red with anger. How dare he compare me to those rude little brats called princesses?

"Give him a chance to adjust, Merry, he's only just arrived," Sam said in my defense.

"I don't know, Sam. I think Merry might be right on this one, he does seem a bit self-important, "Frodo mumbled. Pippen nodded.

"Yeah, did you see the way he sniffed? That was snootiness that Èowyn would be proud of," he interjected. My eyes narrowed in irritation. Snootiness? They were accusing me of snootiness?

Sam came to my defense once more, huffing and saying, "He's said three things to us, two thirds of which was while we crowded him, and now we're going to judge him and say he's 'snooty'?" He gave them disapproving looks before continuing. "Don't you remember what it was like to be here for the first time, confused and not knowing what was going on? He is in that same situation, only he's been taken from not only friends and family, but most likely a very comfortable life as well, thrown into this unwanted business. At least we had half and idea of what we were dealing with. He doesn't seem to have a clue as to why he's here! Why don't we give him a break and try to be nice?" Merry, Pippen, and Frodo nodded grudgingly and they all came back to me.

"So, why don't we get you something to wear?" Frodo asked. "I don't mean to be offensive, but that cloak isn't really all that attractive, at least not for dancing in." I nodded reluctantly, afraid of what they would find to dress me. I can only hope it is not as bad as what Elda found for me to wear.

"If you would take your cloak off, we could get your measurements and start on fixing your attire right away," Merry said. I stiffened.

"Um, can you not take my measurements now, as I am?" I asked. He frowned and shook his head. "Well, you see, Elda did not give the most concealing of garments to wear, and I am rather weary about practically stripping in front of people I have just met," I explained. Pippen snorted rudely, shaking his head.

"Just take the cloak off, alright? We promise not to ogle your body," he quipped. I glared at him, irritated with his uncouth behaviour.

"I'd rather just wear this all day," I snapped, turning around. I heard a collective sigh from behind me.

"Would you please take it off? You can put it back on as soon as they're done," Sam said softly. I slowly turned around to see him looking at me sympathetically.

"Well, I... I want you to take the measurements," I said eventually. He blanched, then looked at Merry and Pippen. They shrugged, handing him a long string with marks on it.

"Just be quick about it, alright?" Merry said. Sam nodded, then came over to me. He gave me an expectant look and I gestured to the others. With slight huffs, they all turned around, looking about the room. Only then did I hesitantly slip the cloak off my shoulders, my face burning furiously. Sam gulped, then wrapped the string around my waist, trying not to look at me. I shivered when his cold hands brushed against my belly, making him blush brightly.

"So, uhh, what's your name?" He stammered.

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil and prince of Mirkwood," I replied shyly. He smiled.

"So you are a prince. What's it like?" he asked, measuring my chest.

"Well, everyone respects you," I started. "No one says harsh words to you, and there is fresh fruit to eat every morning. And the music is always beautiful." I giggled as he measured my side, tickling me.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking down. He finished measuring me, turning the colourof a raspberry when he had to measure my legs. As soon as he was done, he picked my cloak back up and held it out for me. I pulled it on quickly, thankful of not feeling naked.

"Are you done yet?" Merry asked impatiently.

"Yeah, we're done. I'll go sketch something up, I'll let you know when I'm done," Sam answered. The other three turned to look at us.

"Well, hurry up, Elda wants him ready for tonight and we only have nine hours to be completely finished," Pippen said.

I cleared my throat, gaining their attention. "Might I ask _what_ it is you are preparing me for?" They all shared a look before Frodo sighed.

"I'll explain it," he moaned. He gestured for me to follow as he moved towards the back of the room, where there was several beds. Pointing to a bare bed, he said, "You can sleep there." Seeing my look of apprehension, he laughed. "Don't worry, we'll get you bedding before tonight." I sat on my bed and he sat down on the one across from mine. I looked around the room. It seemed to be decorated quite lavishly, with a large beautiful tapestry depicting a hilly countryside on the back wall. Frodo saw me looking at the picture and smiled. "That's the Shire. It's where we come from," he explained. "The prince was kind enough to have that made for us. Well, made for Sam. It's based off a sketch of Sam's. If you look closely, you can see all the houses and people." I looked again and smiled. He was right.

"They are all children," I noted. Frodo shook his head.

"No, it's all our friends. We're hobbits, not children," he said. I cocked my head.

"Hobbits? I have never heard of a hobbit before." He nodded.

"Most people haven't, not that we mind. It's always fun to see the looks on peoples' when we tell them how old we are." I gave him a curious look.

"How old are you?" I asked slowly. He grinned.

"Weren't you wanting to know why you're here?" he said. I glared at him, wanting him to answer my question, but wanting to know what was going on more. With a huff, I nodded. He cleared his throat. "Well, Prince Boromir is… having a bit of a problem. So basically, you're here to help fix the problem. Every night, you will dance. It won't be in front of many people, just the prince, his brother, and us. Depending on how well or bad you do, you will move up or down the list of dancers. You will know you have done well if you are farther away from being the last dancer," he explained. I stared at him. "Do you still not understand?" he asked, uncomfortable under my gaze.

"Oh no, it is not that. I am just a little curious as to why I should subject myself to such humiliation as this," I stated calmly. He stiffened.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, really," he started. I cut him off with an impatient noise.

"What exactly is wrong with this prince that he needs dancers?" He looked away, unwilling to answer. "I have said it several times, I cannot dance, and even if I could, it would not be for the pleasure of Men," I said in irritation. "I am an Elf; I have a bit more pride than that."

The two princes laughed loudly at the joke the stable boy made. "Oh, you are quite a witty young man, Bergil," Boromir said. The boy bowed his head in thanks, handing the prince the reigns of his horse. He mounted the dark Andalusian, saying, "Faramir, why don't we see whose horse is faster?" Faramir snorted, mounting his horse.

"Last time we raced and I won, I think you cried, Brother. I would hate to see you in tears again," he replied. They went off, riding for quite a while before stopping and sitting down next to a stream. They let the horses graze while they talked. Eventually, the conversation turned towards Boromir's predicament.

"This routine is becoming quite tiring, Faramir," the prince complained. "The girl's never interested me all that much _before_, but now they are _boring_ me!" Faramir gave a sympathetic smile while nibbling on cloverleaves. Boromir looked at his brother, snorting. "Hungry?" he asked sarcastically. Faramir shrugged.

"Maybe what you need is a change, such as a new dancer," he suggested. Boromir cocked his head, a thoughtful look upon his face.

"I suppose that would be better than nothing," he said slowly. "Perhaps you are right. After all, I have been watching the same girls for years. Yes, I think a new dancer would help." He sat a little straighter, excited by the prospect. "Perhaps I could come with you this time to search for her. If I could pick a woman out myself that might be beneficial." He looked at Faramir expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

"Actually, I have already found a new dancer," the younger man said nervously. The prince was slightly taken aback, but not angry.  
"Really? When were you able to do that? I don't remember you going on a search, unless of course you lied about travelling to get away from the castle," Boromir said teasingly. Faramir shook his head.

"I was being truthful, I just happened upon someone I thought would be perfect for you along the way," he explained. Boromir nodded.

"So tell me, what is her name?" Faramir shifted in unease as his brother gazed at the stream.

"Well, actually, it's a _he_, brother…" he corrected. The prince stiffened, then slowly turned his head and glared at the younger man.

"Oh," he said softly. "And why, may I ask, do you think a man would be perfect for _me_?" Boromir snorted, looking away and standing. "I've told you before, I am not attracted to my sex, Faramir," he spat. Faramir looked down guiltily.

"It makes sense, Boromir," he started. When the angry prince said nothing, he continued. "That woman hated you with all if her heart and wanted you to never break the curse. Therefore, does it not make sense that the one to break the curse would be male? After all, when would you ever think to pursue a man rather than a woman? She wanted this to be difficult, and somehow finding the perfect woman seems too easy..." Boromir huffed, turning away.

"You still haven't answered my first question," he said after a while. Faramir cocked his head. "What is _his _name?" Boromir said in defeat.

"His name is Legolas, he is an elf." The prince's eyes widened.

"An _elf?_ You do realise he is probably old enough to be our great grandfather's great grandfather, right?" Boromir asked in bewilderment. Faramir shrugged.

"That only makes him a more logical choice. Despite that, however, he still has what is quite frankly the most beautiful face I have ever seen," he said. When Boromir huffed, walking towards his horse Faramir called after him, "Trust me, Brother, when you watch him tonight, you will not be disappointed."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N OH GAAAAAAAAAAAAAWD I'M SO ASHAMED! How can it have taken me so long to update?! Oh yeah, that's right, school, homework, family, finding out my dog is going to be euthanized, and just life in general. I AM SOOOOOO SORRY! I worked really hard on this chapter to make up for it, but still, if there are ANY mistakes, do not be afraid to point them out! Boromir, could you do the disclaimer?**

**Boromir: TwistedAngel08 does not own Lord of the Rings, or any other work by J. R. R. Tolkien. She will however own a very nasty bruise if I do not get _laid_ within the next two chapters!**

******Uhhhh... yeah, I'll see what I can do about that, Boromir... Anyways, I must warn you! This chapter is extremely tame, but later on there will be language, gay love, violence, possibly sex, etc. etc. Don't like it? Don't read! Please enjoy, and remember to R&R!**

******Boromir: Seriously, I need sex! The story says I haven't gotten laid in at _LEAST_ three years!**

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"I refuse to move in such a shamelessly provocative manner!" I said, offended. Frodo smiled, acting flattered.

"Aw, you think I'm provocative?" he teased. I huffed, turning my back on him. It was bad enough they had gotten me into a tight fitting outfit, but now they wanted me to dance like a, a... I did not even know the _word_ for someone danced like that! _Was_ there anyone who danced in such a way?

"Legolas, please? You've been such a good sport about everything else; you even let one of the girls braid your hair. Could you please just cooperate?" Sam asked quietly.

"What is the point of this?" I asked. The two hobbits shrugged. I huffed, turning around.

"Why don't you show us what _you_ think is good dancing?" Frodo asked in a friendly tone. I sighed.

"You do not understand… I just do not dance," I mumbled. They were quiet for a moment.

Then, "Why don't you dance, Legolas?" Sam asked softly. I did not know why, but for some reason, whenever he used that soft tone, I could not help but respond.

"My father has forbid me from dancing." I waited for them to speak, but when they said nothing I continued. "When I was younger, about one-thousand-three-hundred years old, I would dance all the time. It was always in solitude, however, and though I thought I was quite talented, I could not have been farther from the truth…" My nose tingled with the uncomfortable feeling that comes before tears."One evening, I asked if I could dance for my father's guests. I wanted to make him proud, to show him how good I thought I had gotten. But I shamed him." My voice began to crack, the tears starting to roll down my cheeks. "It must have been horrible; once I was done, everyone sat shifting in their seats, dreadfully uncomfortable in the presence of such failure. When everyone was gone, my father punished me, and told me to never dance before others again." I felt a slight touch on my elbow, and turned to see Sam looking at me with a gentle gaze.

"Legolas, you're an elf, you're graceful by nature. You can't have been that bad," Frodo said. Sam nodded, agreeing.

"When you say 'uncomfortable', what do you mean?" he asked me. I thought hard, trying to remember the guests' behavior.

"They were all blushing, and shifting in their seats…." I said quietly.

"And how would you describe the way you danced?" Again, I focused on the memory, reliving my movements.

With a blush, I replied, "Not unlike the way you are trying to get me to dance now."Sam nodded, deep in contemplation.

After a moment, he said, "You know what I think? I think the guests were aroused, and your father punished you because he was embarrassed, which isn't fair." Frodo smiled, bumping his forehead.

"That makes so much sense!" he said. The loudness of his voice hurt my ears and startled me, making me wince. "Sorry, Legolas," he amended. I thought on what they told me. Could I have really aroused the men my father had brought over for negotiation? It did make more sense than the thought that I was a horrible dancer did. After all, I had always felt so confident in my abilities, and to suddenly be that wrong… did not make sense...

"And Legolas, that's all your trying to do here, is arouse the prince," a voice said from the corner of the room. My eyes darted to the voice to see that Merry and Pippen had been sitting on one of the beds, watching us this whole time. _How did I not notice them?!_

"Merry, could you try to not be so blunt?" Frodo said. Merry shrugged.

"Just telling the truth," he said with a smirk. Turning back to me, he continued."Besides, if you can assist in the arousal of the prince, you'll be allowed to go anywhere you want. You'll be able to go home, and the prince's men would escort you there if you wanted." I cocked my head, looking at Sam. He reluctantly bowed his head in agreement.

"So all I have to do is arouse the prince?" I asked. I turned to Frodo. "Why could you not have just told me? Why did you have to spell everything out in riddles?" He blushed.

"I don't like being as brusque as Merian," he admitted.

"But… But what about my father? He forbade it…" I said.

"Your father isn't here," Sam answered. A part of me was worried… but the rest of me…the rest of my heart cried out in joy. _I can dance once more!_

Sam watched with a slighting smile as Legolas repeated Frodo's steps with much more grace than any hobbit other than the lithe brunette could ever hope to achieve. He could understand why Prince Faramir had thought Legolas would make a good addition to the 'dancing troupe', as he had referred to it. Sam knew that the other hobbits thought Legolas was conceited and rude, but actually, he was just stressed. Someone who seemed so innocent could not be truly bad. He was quite a good learner, taking to Frodo's steps immediately. A blush crept up the blond hobbit's cheeks as he thought about how beautiful Frodo was. _That's enough, Samwise! Think about something else, like gardening,_ he scolded himself.

Oh gardening… what he would have not given for just a single seed, even a potato eye to grow into a lovely plant that he could lavish attention on. He sighed, thinking about the garden he had left behind in the Shire in order to accompany Frodo. He didn't regret staying with his friend, no! He only wished he could have brought his gardening tools along.

He looked at Merry and Pippen. They had never seemed to care about the move. After all, the two lived for mischief, and that could be achieved anywhere, so they were set for life. Of course, it helped that they were hopelessly in love with each other, although neither one actually knew it yet.

Then Sam looked at Frodo, and a slight sadness overcame him. Once, Sam had been hopelessly in love as well, with the pretty little brunette. But after years of chasing, one day he realised it just wasn't meant to be. Sam, being as good at hiding his feelings as he was had managed to prevent Frodo from ever finding out. Now… now he just focused on being a good friend to the smaller hobbit. That was one of the reasons he wanted the others to see that Legolas was not all that bad. If Frodo decided he did not like the elf, being friends with both would be difficult. _Frodo really is a wonderful dancer…_the blond hobbit thought.

Boromir sighed as Èowyn chattered on about something he didn't really care about. She was a nice girl, but she was bad at holding her tongue, or at least learning that not every silence must be filled with noise. He supposed it didn't help that he showered the girl with gifts, but it kept the Council off his back about courting a woman, so what else was there to do?

"Don't you think so, my Prince?" the girl asked, batting her eyelashes. He blinked, looking at her a bit dumbly. She sighed. "Did you hear anything I said?"Boromir slowly shook his head, feigning guilt. With a doggish laugh, she said,"It is alright, I do not mind repeating myself." _Of course you don't, you probably feel some sort of pleasure in your own incessant talking,_ the prince thought to himself. "I said, it's obvious that I am the one who will break your curse, don't you think so?" He shrugged, making her frown. "Who else could it be? I am your favourite, yes?" Boromir sputtered uncomfortably until the door to his chambers opened. Faramir hesitated before coming in.

"I apologise for intruding, Lady Èowyn, but I must speak with my brother alone," he said shyly. She nodded, standing.

"Very well, we can finish our conversation later. Goodbye, my prince," she said, leaving. On the way out the door, she shook her bottom ever so slightly, making Boromir huff.

"I can't take this much longer, Faramir. That woman is so... irritating." The younger prince chuckled sympathetically, taking Èowyn's place in the chair across form Boromir.

"She could be the one, brother," he said jokingly.

"Yes, and I could be my own grandfather," Boromir snapped.

"Stranger things have happened."

"That is true, such as the day of your birth. I remember it well. You were so disappointing the doctor slapped our mother."

"My, my brother, you certainly a master of satire."

"You jest, but on the inside, you know this to be true."

"Oh look at that, you've managed to change the subject. Allow me to change it back."

"Do we have to? You know I detest thinking of Éowyn for any longer than necessary."

"Then perhaps you would prefer to think of Legolas."

"Lego-who? Oh yes, the elf. Speaking of which, you said he would be dancing tonight, did you not?"

"Well yes, I did, but we may have to bring the girls out a little later than usual tonight."

"Why is that?" The older prince asked in suspicion. Faramir stared at his feet for a few moments before answering

"The council wants to eat with you tonight. They said they had something important to tell you."

"Ugh! Is the whole goal of their lives to make me miserable? Because if so, they certainly are doing a wonderful job."

"You only have to put up with them until you get married."

"I'll try to see things from your optimistic point of view but, I don't know if I can get my head that far up my arse! You speak as if breaking my curse and getting married is a small task."

"You will never achieve you goals with that attitude, brother."

"Faramir, face it, no one will ever break my curse. Gondor would be better off if you just claimed the throne."

"I won't insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said. Besides, you just want to give the council a reason to complain so that you may complain."

"No, I don't. It's not even my fault that they are always complaining, it's just their purpose in life to make me- ugh, forget it! Arguing with you is like going in circles wearing a pair of boots two sizes too small; you go over the same terrain again and again, but it gets a little more painful each time."

"I'm ecstatic that you are so fond of our conversations."

"Were we not about to talk about the elf?"

"Oh yes, Legolas…" Faramir shuffled his feet nervously.

"Is there something you're not telling me? Oh, Gods, he is deformed, isn't he?"

"_No_, he is actually quite beautiful."

"It's his personality then, isn't it? He is absolutely horrid, is he not?"

"Um, I haven't actually _spoken_ with him yet."

"Why is that?"

"Well, the only time I've seen him he was unconscious."

"…. Were you watching him sleep?"

"No, the, um, men drugged him to keep him asleep when they brought him."

"_What?!_ Why would you drug him?!"

"You see, he didn't exactly volunteer himself to come with us…"

"So you had an unconscious _elf_ around a group of soldiers?! You better have been at his side every second of the day."

"Uh… well…."

Boromir jumped up, throwing his hands in the air. "So you had an unconscious elf around a group of soldiers _unattended_?!"

"Oh how lovely brother, perhaps you could yell in my ear, I didn't quite hear you."

"Do you have any idea what they could have done to him?! I would trust any of those men with my life, but I wouldn't trust anyone's _virginity_with them!" The older prince began pacing.

"Brother, I understand why you are yelling, but to be honest, if he has a chance of breaking your curse, I truly don't care what happens to him." They were both silent, neither looking at the other.

After a while, Boromir sat down with a huff. "Ugh… how could a father let soldiers drug his son?"

"Well…actually he tried to pay _me_ to take Legolas, not the other way around."

"Faramir, that is not funny."

"I assure you I am not joking."

"... Does he know his father wanted to get rid of him?"

"I'm not sure, I haven't spoken with him."

"If he doesn't, do not tell him. Nothing breaks one's spirit more than being unwanted by their father."

"Yes, I know that better than most." With a grumbly sigh, Boromir stood once more.

"Well, I had best be on my way. I need to speak with the damnable council, and see if I cannot convince them to dine in their own hall as usual. You would do best to see this elf before he dances."

"Of course, brother."

"Legolas, the prince is here to see you," i heard Merry say. I looked up from the floor, cocking my head.

"What does he want?" I asked. The hobbit shrugged, stepping away from the door to allow a Man to walk in.

"Hello, Prince Legolas. It is good to meet you while you are awake," he said, giving a small bow. I scrambled to my feet, trying to reassemble myself.

"Why would you have met me whilst I was asleep?" He cleared his throat, looking me in the eye.

"You fell before I had the pleasure to meet you, and the medicine my men gave you kept you unconscious for quite some time." He was lying, right through his teeth, but I said nothing.

"What is it that you need of me?" He motioned of me to follow him out, so we walked out. All of the girls eyed us in irritation as we left the room, especially Éowyn. Once we were in the hall, he cleared his throat again.

"You look wonderful, it seems as though the hobbits did their best in clothing you," he said politely.

"Forgive my straightforwardness, but can we get on past the niceties? After all, you have stolen me from my home so that i may dance for your enjoyment. Any chances of the two of us becoming friends became nonexistent the moment I regained consciousness." He blinked dumbly before regaining his composure and nodding.

"Of course, you're right. I apologise for insulting your intelligence," he said with a wry smile.

"Now, exactly why am I here? All I have been told is that I must arouse the other prince, but what I have been wondering us why would you need me for that? Even if your brother preferred the same sex, why would you have found it necessary to travel so far to find me?"

He sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Let us just say that my brother has had a bad run-in with a witch, and only one person can solve his problem. Not just anyone will do, and I think you are perfect, if I may be frank." I nodded, thinking.

"Hmm, I suppose I'll accept that…" I mumbled, looking down. Then, looking up, I said, "I have been told that if I dance and help your brother, I will be allowed to go home. Is that correct?"

"Most likely, yes, but I need your word that you will dance for my brother no matter what, and will do your best. Then I can work on my end of the deal." he said quietly. My eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Why? Is there something that might happen to make me uncomfortable? I do not exactly have to dance, you know." He glared at me.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I don't give a damn about you being uncomfortable. If you do not dance, I will make sure that even if my brother's curse is broken, you will stay here for the rest of my life at the least, and your life at the most," he snapped. My hands balled into fists as he continued, "I'm sure we will find a use for you. You are after all a beautiful elf, and the soldiers get so lonely at times." Before he could react, I grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him in the air with an angry growl.

"You do realise I could _kill_ you right now, yes prince?" I spat.

He only smiled, choking out, "And I also know that no matter how strong you are, you won't ever be able to get out of Gondor after doing so. The army itself would hunt you down like a _dog_, so act wisely, elf." I snarled, dropping him to the ground. He landed quite ungracefully, picking himself up with a smirk.

I raised an eyebrow. "I must admit, your honesty is quite refreshing. I do not think anyone has been this blunt with me all day, aside from your jailer, Aragorn," I admitted. He paused in brushing himself off to look at me sharply.

"Aragorn? That's not our jailer, that's the prisoner, what are you talking about?" I sighed, disappointed that as soon as I mentioned his honesty he did away with it.

"The jailer said his name was Aragorn, why must I repeat myself?" With a groan, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Please tell me you're confusing the man in the cell with the man who was to watch you," he said, worried.

"How can I confuse the man in the cell with someone else when I was the one in the cell?" I snapped. He didn't answer, instead, he pulled me back through the girls' room, ignoring their shouts of protests and shoving me back into the room I shared with the hobbits.

"I must go report this to my brother. You, in the mean time would do best to remember our talk. Please don't disappoint me," he said, running off. I shouted for him to wait, but he was gone, one of the princesses angrily shutting the door in my face.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Uck! I'm soooo sorry it took me so long to update! Life kind of got it the way, but since school is almost over I'll have more time to write! So... Who's gonna do the disclaimer?**

**Legolas: If I do the disclaimer, will you let me go home?**

**Sure! You can go home... Someday.**

**Legolas: TwistedAngel08 does not own any of J.R.R. Tolkein's works, nor does she own any of the characters. So don't try to sue, she'll only take it out on me.**

**Aww, Legolas, I wouldn't do that! Ahem, anyways. Warnings! Uhhhh, language, slight violence, and later on there will be malexmale. It won't be in this chapter, and even when it does show up it may not even be explicit yet, but just in case this bothers you I thought if tell ya. So if it does, go ahead and click that wonderful invention the back button. R&R guys! Enjoy!**

**Later A/N So, guys, I am sooooo sorry, but I just cannot continue this story. I have no feel for it at all, and it wouldn't be fair to the characters, or to the readers if I kept going and just wrote crap. So, I'm sorry to say this, but I won't be updating A Prince's Curse anymore. If there is anyone who wants to adopt the story, let me know, cause that would be just fine, but I myself can't continue. I apologize.  
**

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"Brother? Brother! I need to speak with you!" Faramir called out, reaching to stop his sibling from entering the councilmen's chamber. Prince Boromir scowled, shaking Faramir's hand off in irritation.

"What could be so important that it justifies interrupting me while I sort out my business with the councilmen?" The younger prince flinched, breathing heavily from running to catch Boromir.

"Aragorn has escaped," he said, attempting to regain his composure. Boromir eyed him curiously before laughing and slapping his shoulder playfully.

"I apologize for snapping, Brother. It seems you only wanted to make me laugh before I have to subject myself to the company of old fools. Thank you." Boromir chuckled once before he realized- "You're serious?" The lighter haired prince nodded gravely, avoiding his brother's eyes. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then, his voice booming loud with authority, Boromir called out to the guards, "Sound the alarm! Alert everyone! Aragorn has escaped!" Immediately the hall was filled with guards and soldiers from the surrounding corridors, all of them sure that their prince needed them. Faramir gasped as his brother pushed him in to a particularly burly man. "Make sure no one comes near my brother- I'll not have that bastard take away what's left of my family," the older prince growled. The man nodded with a grunt, wrapping his fingers tightly around Faramir's arm.

"Ouch! Let go of me," Faramir snapped. He pulled away, pushing through the men to get to his brother, who had started to leave. "Brother, what about the councilmen? You can't just leave without warning them!" Boromir looked back, groaning.

"Are you sure? It would not be that big of a loss if one of them-"

"Brother!"

"Alright, alright! I'll go and warn them," the prince grumbled, coming back. As the guards and soldiers finally filed out of the hall to search the castle and grounds, Boromir opened the door to the councilmen's chamber. With an angry huff, he slammed the door shut again.

"Boromir?"

"Those bastards are gone!" the prince roared. Kicking the wall he said, "They've probably already gone to the dining hall to get a peek at the girls like the old perverts they are!" Faramir shook his head, moving away from the guard who shadowed him.

"The girls aren't dancing tonight. They're in their room, which is a good thing I suppose, considering our ranger problem," he said thoughtfully. Boromir sighed in relief.

"Good, I would hate for anything to happen to them." Then, as an afterthought he asked, "Why aren't they dancing tonight?" Faramir smiled weakly.

"I thought Legolas would have a better effect on you if he had your undivided attention," he explained, again moving away from the persistent guard. Then, both princes blanched.

"You left the elf alone with the councilmen? Gods damn it all, Faramir, is it your personal goal to have the boy raped by the week's end?!"

Faramir fervently shook his head, saying "Well, perhaps if we hurry to the dining hall we can catch Legolas before he goes in and get him back to his room!" And with that the men hurried off, Faramir yelling in angry shock when his temporary body guard flung him over his shoulder.

I looked at myself in the mirror, gingerly picking at the attire I had been forced to wear. In all honesty it really was quite nice. Sam had been kind enough to come up with something much less revealing than what I had seen a few of the women wearing, though Merry and Pippen had tried to convince him otherwise.

I was wearing pale leggings that mocked the color of my skin, and over those, a skirt like article that resembled the vines of ivy, a common plant from my home. On my feet was a wrapping of fabric that was soft to the touch, but very sturdy and thick, so that I did not feel much, if anything I stepped on. The wrappings came up my ankles and tied around my calves.

My shirt was tight and covered in a myriad of green and brown shreds of silk. I thought the silk was a bit showy, but Sam assured me that I wanted to be a bit showy. Then over this, despite many protests from the Hobbits, I wore the cloak that Éowyn had given me. I did not wear it because it held sentimental value, but because it was the same shade of grey as my own cloak that had mysteriously disappeared.

I looked fine enough, but that did not mean I felt fine.

"Legolas, are you alright?" Sam asked as we walked to the dining hall. It was quickly becoming clear that Sam would be my greatest friend in this place, for he was very kind. I wrung my hands together tightly.

"Yes, uh, I am fine," I mumbled. From my other side, I noticed Frodo smiling.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," he said. Huffing slightly, I shrugged.

"I am just worried about dancing in front of people…. Ever since what happened, I have not been around more than ten people at a time… and I am starting to notice crowds make me nervous." Frodo only laughed.

"Oh, don't worry about that. The prince hates to have guests while the girls are dancing. He does not like when the men try to buy one of the princesses, thinking that the girls are slaves, or servants." I sighed in relief, partly because of Frodo's explanation but also because we had to come to the door of the dining room. I went to open the door but stopped, noticing that the Hobbits were not following me.

"Are you not coming with me?" I asked, a hint of fear in my voice. Sam smiled apologetically.

"We aren't allowed to enter the dining hall, not since Merry and Pippen decided to play a prank on Prince Boromir," he said. I blinked, realizing I would be alone with my audience in the dining hall. "Don't worry Legolas, you'll do fine." I nodded, knowing that Sam was right. Taking a deep breath, I waved at them before opening the door and walking in to the hall.

Inside there was four guards, and thirteen old men sitting at the long table in the middle of the hall. I froze.

"Oh, are we to have entertainment tonight?" one of the men asked. I squeaked, unable to hide my shock. Another, older man smiled in an unpleasant way, eyeing me.

"Such a beautiful dancer Boromir has picked for this evening. You are a dancer, yes?" he asked. Motioning for me to move closer, he laughed. "Why don't you let us see your pretty face?" I cringed, reluctantly doing as I was asked. When I was about four feet from the table, the older man laughed again, shaking his head. "We are old, young one. Come closer so that these weary eyes may see you." I looked to the guards, thinking that surely they would not let me anywhere near the old men, but not one of them made a move to stop me, so I was forced to move closer. He did not stop motioning for me with his wrinkled hand until my belly hit the edge of the table. As he leaned close, I fought the urge to wrinkle my nose at his scent, which was foul and dusty. Without asking for my permission, the old man slid down my hood, smiling a toothless grin. Well, not entirely toothless; there was one lonely bottom tooth that was rotted and yellowed. He stroked my hair, chuckling.

"Dernol, don't keep the young woman all to yourself, we all need entertainment," one of the men wheezed. Dernol shook his head.

"Oh no, this is no young woman," he said, his sour breath hitting me in the face. "He is a young Elf." All at once, the men began chattering loudly, all of them obviously excited. They spoke over each other, so I did not hear everything that was said, but what I did hear made my blood boil and my face drain of color at the same time.

"-Elves are said to be flexible-"

"-should like for him to visit my chambers-"

"-how kind of Boromir to finally show us respect-"

"-a male elf, is that really the best choice for-"

"-sure he'll make a wonderful whore…"

Before I knew what I was doing, my hands slammed down onto the wooden table, making a loud enough sound to silence them all.

"I am no whore!" I hissed, pressing my hands harder against the table. I heard the wood creak in protest and crack, but I did not care. "How dare you even insinuate such a thing?!" I demanded. The guards in the room began rushing to me, but before they could reach me, I shoved my hands through the table, ignoring the pain as I pulled it back. The men gasped in shock and the guards faltered at my show of strength. The table was heavy, but my anger gave me enough strength to pull it back far enough that when I jumped over it, I had plenty of room to hiss in the man's face, the one who had dared touch the hair of the prince of Mirkwood. "You are all lucky I never want to touch a single hair of any of you, or you would all be dead before you could call for help," I whispered quietly. Before anyone could do anything about it, I ran to a pair of doors in the back of the dining hall. It lead to a balcony, and I jumped over the edge without hesitation.

When I hit the ground, collapsing in a heap, I began to wonder if I should have kept a better reign on my temper. Groaning, I picked myself up, thankful, not for the first time, that I was an Elf rather than a fragile human. From above me, the guards shouted and pointed down, so I ran in the opposite direction, pushing my way through a bush in to what looked like a hall. I followed it, coming to two turns. I went left, and was met with a dead end. Am I in a maze? I thought in irritation. With many huffs, growls, and curses I managed to lose myself in the maze, and, shrieking in anger, I shoved through bushes, grunting every time the branches caught my clothes or scratched my skin. Finally, I forced my way in to a clearing. I would have kept going had I not realized how beautiful it was. The clearing was covered in white flowers that shined silver in the full moon's light. It took my breath away.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" I heard a voice from behind me say. I jumped, whipping around to see Aragorn, the man from the cell. I sputtered as he smirked at me. "Surprised to see me?" he asked teasingly. I scowled.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped. He shrugged, walking past me to lean against a statue I had not noticed.

"I could ask you the same thing, Legolas. Are you not supposed to be dancing for the prince and his subjects? Or is your beautiful costume the new uniform for servants?" I turned my back to him, growing agitated.

"Prince Faramir says you are an escaped prisoner... Is that true?" I heard him chuckle, but he did not answer my question. Instead, he began to sing softly. I rolled my eyes. Somehow, it made sense that the man did not feel the need to answer me. I sighed, closing my eyes to the night as if it would close my ears to Aragorn's voice. To be honest, his voice was very beautiful, but I would never tell him that. To my surprise, he sang in Elvish, of the joys of night. It was more comforting to hear a song of my people than I wanted to admit. He stopped suddenly, and I turned. "What is it?" I asked. He smiled.

"You enjoy my singing." I bristled.

"What makes you think that?"

"Maybe because I saw you swaying to the song," he said with a smirk. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, turning away once more. But Aragorn spoke softly, saying, "You may dance if you wish. I will not watch if you prefer, but I can tell you wish to move." I heard a rustle and when I turned around, Aragorn was gone. I opened my mouth to call out for him but stopped when I heard him begin to sing. He was giving me privacy to dance...

So dance was what I did.

His voice enveloped me, transporting me to the halls of my home. I felt as if I had merely ventured in to a part of the forest I was not familiar with rather than having been kidnapped. I moved with joy, finally able o dance freely after nine hundred years. I felt myself grinning, heard myself laughing, and it was magical. Just Aragon's voice and my dancing... Until I bumped in to a tall man that is. I shrieked in surprise, jerking back.

"Please, do not stop because of me," he said worriedly.

"Who are you?" I asked angrily, glaring at him. How dare he spy on me? It made me feel violated, as if he had seen me at my weakest moment. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, trying to smile. I noticed Aragorn had stopped singing.

"My name is Boromir, son of Denethor. You must be Legolas, the Elf; no one but an Elf could move with such grace, and beauty," he answered. I scowled.

"Are you the one who told those foolish old men that I was a whore for their entertainment?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. His eyes widened.

"What? No! No, I swear to you, they were not even supposed to be in the dining hall tonight," he said, taking a step towards me. I took a step back, holding my hand out.

"Are you certain? They seemed absolutely positive I was a... gift... from you to them. What would make them think that?" He gave me a stern look.

"If you are suggesting I give them 'gifts' of that sort you are sorely mistaken. To be honest I hate them all and have never given them anything." I eyed him in suspicion.

After a moment, I drew up my hood. "So you are the one I am to dance for?" He nodded slowly, a dreamlike glaze covering his eyes.

"What little I have seen of your dancing was quite passionate and beautiful. I look forward to you moving so gracefully with me in mind," he admitted. "And who was that singing? I should like to offer him a place to sing with the musicians when you dance," I smirked, looking in Aragorn's direction.

"I am not so sure you would like him all that much. Your brother sure did not, he tried to tell me that Aragorn was supposed to be a prisoner." At the mention of Aragorn's name, Boromir paled, his dreaming expression fading. Then, he grabbed my hand, yanking me behind him. "Ow! What in all the hells are you doing?"

Rather than answering my question he said, "Aragorn! If you are out there, show yourself! The guards will catch you soon enough, and if you cause trouble they may accidentally kill you. If you come out now, you know that I cannot kill you, and that you will simply be placed in your safe cell." It was silent for a moment, as though Aragorn was considering the prince's proposal. Then, directly behind me I heard his chuckle, which I was quickly becoming familiar with.

I almost screamed when I felt myself jerked back in to Aragorn's arms, a knife pressed firmly against my throat. Boromir whipped around, his eyes widening before he took a step forward, baring his teeth in anger. He only stopped when Aragorn pressed the knife harder against my skin, making me hiss.

"You know, Prince, as appealing as your offer sounds, I think I'll just take this with me and leave, thank you," Aragorn said pleasantly. As Aragorn began pulling me back, Boromir reached out. I should have reached for him as well, but my brain was frozen. All I could focus on was the cool blade against my throat. I struggled not to stumble as Aragorn pulled me back with him, groaning low as Boromir disappeared behind a wall of leaves. When he was completely out of sight- and no doubt completely out of earshot, even if I were to yell- my captor allowed me to turn. At the sight of his smiling face my fist flew out of its own accord, making a solid connection with his nose.

"Ow! What in the hell was that for?!" he shouted. I growled.

"You held a knife to my throat!" He moaned, straightening up. His nose was bleeding, I must have broken it.

"Well I suppose I deserved that then. Still, a little warning would have been nice," he said, tipping his head back. "Ugh, this will set us back a bit." I cocked my head, confused.

"Set us back from what?" I asked. I could not see his smile, but I knew it was there.

"We're escaping tonight, of course." His voice, although muffled from pinching his nose closed, was smug and confident. I stared in bewilderment.

"Escaping? You mean, as in leaving?"

He chuckled and nodded.

"What else would I mean? Escaping as in staying for a cup of tea?" I huffed, looking away.

"What makes you think I would want to go anywhere with you? As I said before, you held a knife to my throat." He shrugged.

"And you broke my nose, but you don't see me complaining," he said pleasantly.

"Because it was in response to you holding a KNIFE to my THROAT!"

Frodo and I weren't allowed in the dining hall, but we still stayed outside the door to make sure nothing went wrong. Well, we couldn't hear much from outside of the hall, but we figured if something was loud enough to hear then that would be our cue that something was happening, and perhaps about to go wrong. We weren't expecting Legolas to yell "How dare you even insinuate such a thing?!" When that happened, we were ordered to go back to our room, the guards saying that Legolas was too volatile and dangerous. I don't think that's true, but it sure scared Mr. Frodo, so we left, Frodo babbling on about the incident. In the room, Merry and Pippen interrogated us for details while Frodo paced the room nervously.

"Oh, I wish we knew what was going on," he moaned, tugging his hair. "What if they hurt Legolas? What if Legolas hurts them? Ugh, the suspense is killing me!" I smiled softly.

"Frodo, I'm sure everything was fine. I don't want to say anything too soon, but I think Legolas has a bit of a short temper," I said, chuckling. He huffed, giving me a dirty look.

"This is serious, Sam. Legolas is the first male dancer that's been here in years. If he leaves and I have to deal with those insufferable princesses again, I'll go insane! Not one of those girls picks up on my choreography the way he did." Merry snorted.

"Right, who cares if something happens to the Elf? The important thing is that Frodo still has a receptive dancer pupil when all is said and done," he said, shrugging. Frodo glared at Merry, his hands flying to his hips.

"That's not what I meant, Merry!"

"That was the gist."

"'The gist' and 'meaning' mean the same thing!" Pippen and I shared a look before sighing and settling in to our chairs. Merry and Frodo could argue for hours at a time.

They went on and on, back and forth, and as the two bickered, I couldn't help but notice the sparkle Frodo's eyes got when anger animated his features. It was... cute. Frodo was always so passionate when he argued. His face flushed red, his nostrils flared, and he clutched at the collar of his shirt. It was strange, but strangely... endearing...

I hadn't noticed I had been smiling until I frowned when the door opened. A large, intimidating man came in, Prince Faramir draped across his shoulder.

"Prince?" Pippen asked, confusion clear on his face. The man turned so we could see the tousled prince.

"This big oaf refuses to release me! Just ignore him," Faramir huffed. Merry and Pippen snickered while Frodo and I offered sympathetic looks. Faramir ignored us, asking, "Have you seen Legolas? Is he back yet?" We all shook our heads. "Oh gods, this isn't good. Boromir was absolutely livid when he found out the councilmen upset Legolas, but if he finds out we can't find him..." He let his head drop against the large man's shoulder. With a sigh, he looked back up at us. "Please, if he comes back, keep him here. We're having a bit of a... problem." I nodded.

"Of course, Prince, we understand."


End file.
